[Isekai Lady Cozy Mystery] Episode 6: The Writer Lady's Countryside Escape Mystery Diary ~I was told 'Marry me,' but I'm starting a detective agency in my hideout~

Previous Episode

26

In the end, Eme got carried away and Chris's disguise was never decided. This was because Eme had Chris try on knight-style, prince-style, and literary youth-style outfits, playing with him like a dress-up doll. Although, Chris himself didn't seem to mind; when he changed into the prince-style outfit, he went into courtship mode again, saying, 'Marry me,' which made Eme squeal and cause such a commotion that the sun set before they could decide on a disguise.

Chris saw me off to the villa, and just then, Paula told the caretaker that dinner was ready. We decided to eat together.

We gathered around the dining table in the villa. The stew that Jeeves had served was steaming hot. Even though the weather was pleasant, it was autumn. It gets a little chilly in the mornings and evenings. It's the perfect season for stews and other simmered dishes.

Paula was completely back to her old self. She was happily stuffing her face with stew, seemingly enjoying her work as a caretaker. She mentioned that she had even knitted with Jeeves today, so the chances of her becoming self-destructive over a broken heart seemed low. Chris, who didn't have a good impression of Paula, seemed relieved by this, and we all ate dinner in peace.

“By the way, are you and Chris really engaged?”

In the middle of all this, Paula dropped that topic, and I nearly choked. Jeeves was smiling as usual. Chris held his chin up haughtily, as he always does.

“That’s right. Lady Anna and I are planning to get married. We’ve even made a bet, but I’ll likely win. I’m betting our engagement on it.”
“What is that, Chris? You’re so pushy~. Aren’t you actually feeling insecure if you’re making a bet like that? You really do look like a disappointing handsome guy.”

It really seems like Chris is bad with Paula. After being teased, Chris cleared his throat with an exaggerated, “Ahem, ahem.”

“Well, well, Chris. And my lady, how is the investigation progressing?”

Jeeves seemed to have acted as a cushion in this situation. He changed the subject in a gentle voice. I followed Jeeves' lead and reported all the progress on the case so far.

“The wig is what’s bothering me. Dr. Rodolphe, Manager Ghislain, Head Chef Cedric. And Dr. Tristan. I wonder if there’s some common thread between them?”

As I said that, I was also bothered by the fact that I knew nothing about the mysterious boy. There were eyewitness reports of Dr. Rodolphe, Head Chef Cedric, and Dr. Tristan being with the boy, but there were none for Manager Ghislain. It felt like the gears weren't meshing, like a machine that wasn't working properly. That was the only sense of unease that remained in the current situation.

When I brought up Dr. Rodolphe, Paula’s expression clouded for a moment. Jeeves looked at Paula with concern, but then he seemed to remember something.

“Come to think of it, while I was hospitalized, I heard rumors about Dr. Rodolphe from the nurses. There were rumors about Dr. Rodolphe’s homosexuality circulating as usual, but according to one nurse, he had no intention of dating any woman. It seems many nurses confessed to him and were turned down. A doctor’s work is busy, after all.”

Jeeves might have been being considerate of Paula, but he’s not the type to lie. This story is likely true, but listening to it, I wonder if it’s possible that Dr. Rodolphe is intentionally spreading rumors about his homosexuality. As Chris said before, it’s quite possible he’s dating a woman with a complicated past.

If that’s the case, the boy Dr. Rodolphe was meeting in secret is even more of a mystery. I fell silent while eating my stew, but I noticed Paula’s mouth moving slightly.

She looked like she wanted to say something. She seemed hesitant, but after being lightly glared at by Chris, she told me a rumor she had heard at the hotel counter.

“I heard a rumor that Manager Ghislain also meets with a boy, and that he’s homosexual. That rumor disappeared quickly, but could this be related?”
“Paula! Thank you!”

I couldn't help but feel grateful. If that's the case, then the common thread between Manager Ghislain, Dr. Rodolphe, Chef Cedric, and the victim, Tristan, becomes clear. The common thread is a young boy. There was trouble between these four men and the boy, and Dr. Tristan was killed. I finally feel like the gears are starting to mesh, but the boy himself remains a mystery. Besides, the common threads like the wig and sexual misconduct are also mysteries.

"But these four men have social standing. One is a literary critic from a baronial family. Another is a head chef, another is a hotel manager, and the last is a doctor. They must have some secret they can't talk about in public."
"Grandpa, does that mean homosexuality?"

It seems like there might be more to it than just that, doesn't it?

"Lady Anna, you won't figure it out just by thinking about it at your desk. Investigating a case is different from writing a mystery novel. Things don't move the way an author wants them to. You have to go to the scene."

Chris's point is well-taken. I have no argument against it.

The next day, I decided to tail Manager Ghislain with Chris. Chris disguised himself with glasses and a tacky sweater, and I dressed as a frumpy housewife for infiltration, and we followed Manager Ghislain after he finished work.

"That man is completely carefree. Even though it hasn't been officially decided yet, that hotel is going to be bought out by me."
"Shh, Chris. Be quiet."

Hiding against the wall at the back entrance of the hotel, we followed Manager Ghislain's back. Never mind me, but Chris is tall and his hair color is conspicuous, yet the other party didn't seem to notice at all. It seems that just changing clothes can unexpectedly change a person's impression.

Manager Ghislain walked to the center of the village and from there began walking toward the villa area. It was already evening, and there were few tourists. There weren't many villagers walking around either, but Manager Ghislain walked quickly without looking back even once.

"I wonder where he's going?"
"I don't know. But all four of these men are suspicious. Well, the culprit is probably that lecherous head chef. So, since I'm going to win this bet, marry me."
"Where does that confidence come from?"

Chris still hadn't taken off the ring on his left ring finger, as usual. I didn't want to think too much about that, but I continued to follow Manager Ghislain.

"Huh?"

However, his actions were surprising. Manager Ghislain entered Sybil's bar near the villa area.

"Hmm? Sybil and Manager Ghislain?"

If Manager Ghislain had been meeting the mysterious boy here, it would be a very convenient development. In reality, he went to the shop of an unexpected person.

"What do you think this means, Chris?"

It's true that Dr. Tristan was an associate who supported Sybil's bar, but this was unexpected.

I wanted to enter the bar, but Chris warned me that if Manager Ghislain was the culprit, he would get suspicious. In the end, we headed to the cafe next door and asked Manager Colette if she knew anything.

"Oh, the manager is at Sybil's shop? Huh, I've often seen Chef Cedric come to the bar, though. I think it was around last year."

Manager Colette flipped through that notebook of hers, looking truly amused.

“What do you mean?”

The clues are all over the place. Now that Sybil has emerged as a suspect, what does it all mean?

I sat in a cafe chair, lost in thought, while Chris stood there, grinning.

“That’s why I told you. Cedric is the culprit. The motive is likely a love triangle gone wrong. Tristan had a one-sided crush on Sybil. So, a troubled Sybil consulted Cedric, and they killed him. Or maybe the manager is an accomplice too. See? My deduction holds water, doesn’t it?”
“Then what about the mysterious boy? That doesn’t hold water. There are holes in it. Are you, despite your looks, a disappointing hunk?”

Manager Colette’s retort was spot on. Even so, Chris was confident in his hole-filled deduction, insisting that my bet was a win.

“Anyway, I made a mistake in my order and bought too much flour. It’s not good if it spoils, so why don’t you and Chris take some home later?”

I had been thinking too much about the mystery. Thanks to that, Manager Colette’s voice sounded far away.

27

The next day’s work at the hotel was from early morning until afternoon. Even though it was a relatively short shift, it was busier than usual, and my legs were throbbing from standing the whole time.

Furthermore, Chef Cedric was focused on his work, showing no signs of being involved in the incident; in fact, he even served meals to underlings like us and seemed well-liked. It was an atmosphere where I couldn’t possibly say I was investigating the case and suspecting Chef Cedric of being the culprit.

“So, I’ve had the staff meal, but Chef Cedric doesn’t seem suspicious at all.”

When I finished work, I headed straight to Manager Colette’s shop. There were no other customers in the cafe today, so I talked to Manager Colette at the counter about the case while also venting my frustrations.

“I see. No progress. Well, have some tea. Even deductions need a break.”

Manager Colette served me warm tea. There was a cookie on the edge of the saucer. It seemed to be a bonus. Recently, Manager Colette apparently ordered too much flour, so she was making these bonus cookies to reduce her stock. Old flour can be life-threatening if accidentally eaten. I looked that up when I was writing my mystery novels. I warned Manager Colette about that, and she was quite grateful.

“Even so, it’s frustrating to have a feeling that the case is about to be solved but isn’t.”
“Don’t worry about it so much. If you do what you like freely, like me, something will suddenly flash in your mind.”

Facing the smiling Manager Colette, I felt my shoulders relax a little, but she wasn’t just sweet. She pulled out the notebook where she collected those rumors and mentioned that there were rumors the White Guard was also investigating the mysterious boy.

“Eh? Really?”
“That’s right. Of course, you can rest, but don’t let your guard down.”

Then she brewed more tea and lent me the telescope she always wore around her neck.

“W-what is this?”
“Anna, why don’t you try collecting rumors with this too? You might find something.”
“Do you think so?”
“I have to deal with the flour, so you do it for me. You can do it while taking a break. Wouldn’t it be a nice change of pace?”

Manager Colette laughed heartily. It seems she finds the case interesting too.

“Well, I suppose I’ll try that.”
“Sounds good. Also, where’s Chris today?”
“He’s working today.”

I said that and sipped my tea. It was fragrant and delicious, even though I hadn’t added any sugar or milk.

“Since you’ve been together every day, don’t you feel lonely?”
“Do you think so?”

It was true that since coming to this village, I had been with Chris almost every day. Honestly, the way he shows his obsession with me is scary, but now that I’m a little distance away, I did feel like something was missing.

That feeling also made me restless. Feeling strangely unsettled, I cleared my throat, paid the bill, hung my telescope around my neck, and left the shop.

It’s a beautiful day again. The sky has a transparency like a watercolor painting. The autumn breeze is pleasant, and I decided to take a little break from deduction. I decided not to think about cases or mysteries from now on. Besides that, I’ll try to forget about Chris and romance novels for a while, too.

After leaving the cafe like this, I entered the forest around the villa. Unfortunately, I didn’t find the blue bird, but birdwatching with a telescope is also interesting. When I saw a bird performing a flashy dance to woo a female, Chris’s face crossed my mind, but I was also moved by a parent bird feeding its chicks. Even the wild birds I usually don’t pay attention to seem to be living with all their might.

That’s probably the same for humans. Everyone is living their lives to the fullest. No one should have the right to take that away from others. I had been trying to forget about the case, but my feelings toward the culprit were only getting worse. It was just as I was reflecting on the fact that I had made a bet with Chris using the case as the subject. I saw Miss Margaret through my telescope.

She was a little distance away, but I ran through the forest and caught up with her.

Miss Margaret also had a telescope around her neck. I thought she might be birdwatching like me, but my guess was wrong.

“I was looking for the blue bird.”

Her voice was as quiet as a mosquito’s hum.

I didn’t ask why Miss Margaret was looking for the blue bird. It was probably to make her love for Chris come true. Miss Margaret had been harassing me, but even as a mystery writer, it would be a breach of etiquette to expose or point out those feelings. I didn’t ask Miss Margaret any more questions about the blue bird.

Seeing my attitude, Miss Margaret softened her own. We decided to look for the blue bird together and walked through the forest together.

Miss Margaret had looked like a refined young lady, but today she wasn’t wearing a frilly skirt; she was wearing trousers, and her legs and hips were sturdy. Her lace-up boots actually suited her quite well.

“I’ve been looking for the blue bird almost every day, so I’ve gotten used to walking. Back in the royal capital, I was pampered like a delicate flower.”

As she said that, the unpleasantness typical of an aristocratic young lady had vanished from Miss Margaret. Even though she had previously had an air of being somewhat stuck-up.

“I won’t harass you anymore, Miss Anna. I’m going to try a little harder with my own efforts.”

I wondered about the fact that her efforts were directed toward finding a blue bird, but Miss Margaret’s eyes looked clear now.

“I won’t lose to you, Miss Anna. My feelings for Chris-sama are deeper.”

Lady Margaret is pouting, her lips pursed. It's a problem, though, because she looks a little cute like that. Her feelings for Chris must be sincere and without a hint of falsehood.

I can't say anything about this either. Sometimes, like Paula, people act strangely because of love. On the other hand, sometimes they show a brave face like Lady Margaret is doing now.

It's just love. Yet, I wonder if it changes people for better or worse. As someone with zero romantic aptitude, I can't imagine it at all, but I do understand that not everything about love is bad.

“Lady Margaret, you look cute right now. You're so earnest.”
“Huh? Really!?”

Lady Margaret turns bright red after being suddenly complimented by me. Thinking that she isn't a bad person at heart, I feel my tension ease. I start to find it a little funny.

“W-what are you laughing at, Lady Anna!”
“Well, well, isn't it fine?”
“I mean, is the investigation making any progress?”

It seems I've warmed up to Lady Margaret while walking through the forest. I didn't want to think about the case right now, but I tell her the progress anyway.

“I have no idea. Honestly, I'm completely stumped.”
“Huh. I mean, why don't you look into the motive? Lady Anna, aren't you too focused on superficial things like tricks and methods?”

Lady Margaret's point was valid. As a hardcore mystery enthusiast, I tend to get caught up in tricks rather than the culprit's motive. This is a major flaw. It was the same way in Tarant Village. Perhaps the reason I can't solve the mystery of this case is that I'm overlooking something important?

“Lady Anna, first, let's go back to basics. Did you properly investigate the victim, Mr. Tristan?”

That hits home. I had overlooked that. It might be better to investigate Mr. Tristan than to chase after a mysterious boy.

“Happiness is unexpectedly found in a blind spot. Lady Anna, didn't you write that in your own work? Isn't the case the same?”
“Y-you're right...”

While breathing in the scent of the forest, let's go back to the beginning once more. Rather than tricks or methods of murder, it's the motive. To do that, I need to investigate Mr. Tristan thoroughly.

“By the way, do you know anything about Mr. Tristan?”

I ask Lady Margaret next to me. I had heard that Lady Margaret and Mr. Tristan were from the same baronial family and were close. There's a possibility she knows something.

“Let's see...”

Lady Margaret looks up to the left, trying to remember something.

“Oh, that's right. Mr. Tristan apparently read your debut work.”
“Yes. Mr. Tristan wrote a critique of it. It was a scathing review, though.”
“He was actually really angry about Lady Anna's novel. He was red in the face, saying things like, 'A woman shouldn't write mystery novels,' or 'What an arrogant author for a woman.' He's usually so gentle, so he was unusually furious.”
“Eh?”

That's news to me. Mr. Tristan's critique was very logical. I'm shocked that he was making the same kinds of remarks as the old men in the literary salon.

“Mr. Tristan threw away Lady Anna's novel. He was angry, saying, 'Such a female author, stop writing mysteries,' but what is it? Lady Anna, did you do something?”

I don't know. I have no memory of holding a grudge against Professor Tristan. I don't even remember meeting him like the old men at the literary salon. Although, it's possible the old men whispered bad rumors about me, or perhaps he gave me a harsh review out of personal spite?

My debut work, 'The Elegant Mystery Affairs of the Detective Duke,' is a story about a poor noblewoman who disguises herself as a duke to investigate cases. Aside from Professor Tristan, the judge of the newcomer award, it was generally well-received by literary critics.

“Lady Margaret, is there any element in this story that would make Professor Tristan angry?”
“Who knows. Isn't it just the typical male chauvinism of our country? Well, if he wrote the review out of personal spite, that is.”

28

That night. I was alone, hunched over my desk, writing a proposal for a romance novel. Editor-in-chief Edmond was scheduled to come tomorrow, so I wanted to make at least some progress.

Paula was resting in the manager's room, and the old man was resting in his room as well. Even the wild birds outside the window were quiet at night. Only the occasional hoot of an owl could be heard from afar.

Honestly, I don't want to write a romance novel, but if it sells in our country, I have no choice. I managed to finish the proposal and next, I summarized the results of the case investigation.

I wrote down the clues I had obtained one by one, but it remained a mystery why Professor Tristan was angry at my novel.

I took out my debut work and read it again. It's a full-scale mystery where a poor noblewoman solves puzzles while cross-dressing as a duke. I pride myself on the intricate details, such as the locked-room trick, the timetable trick, and the poison trick disguised as a suicide. It's a work I'm confident in.

On the other hand, the psychological depiction of the heroine and the portrayal of the culprit's motives are weak. As Professor Tristan pointed out, but what is the element in this novel that would make him angry?

I remember Professor Tristan being critical of entertainment novels aimed at the masses, romance novels that were just convenient for the heroine, and adventure novels with mild trials, but I am the first person he has ever harshly criticized for a mystery novel. Besides, veteran male writers had also given it harsh reviews, so it's unlikely he criticized my work for the same reasons as the old men at the literary salon.

“What could it be? What does it mean?”

I don't know if that has anything to do with the case, but if I look at it from the reader's perspective, I might understand something. I pulled out the fan letters the editorial department had sent me before. It was a coincidence, but I'm glad I brought them to this village.

Reading the fan letters again, I realized that the full-scale mystery tricks in my debut work, 'The Elegant Mystery Affairs of the Detective Duke,' which Professor Tristan harshly criticized, were not actually popular with fans. Instead, it seems they were more interested in the scenes where the poor noblewoman cross-dresses and infiltrates slums, parties, baseball stadiums, and bars.

“Infiltrating a bar while cross-dressing...?”

Something suddenly flashed in my mind. Professor Tristan also had someone around him who was cross-dressing, and they shared a secret. A mystery novel about a cross-dressing heroine was released, and he got angry because his secret was about to be exposed. He also gave it a harsh review out of personal spite.

“It makes sense, at least. Could it be that the mysterious boy is actually a woman...? That they were cross-dressing...? Wait, is that possible?”

If so, the matter of the wig at Aime's shop also has meaning. The fact that the identity of the mysterious boy is completely unknown is also the same. Even those two gossiping widows don't know who the boy is.

“The boy's true identity was a woman. Ah, this makes sense.”

I felt as if the path ahead of me had suddenly opened up. This is something I wouldn't have understood if I had only been chasing the boy. It must be a clue that only I know.

“Dr. Rodolphe, Chef Cedric, and Manager Ghislain all seem to know that the boy is actually a girl. But the true identity of that woman is...”

Sybil's face floats into my mind. I haven't been able to confirm a connection between Dr. Rodolphe and Sybil, but everyone else has a relationship with her. Manager Colette testified that she is a regular at the bar. Dr. Tristan also has a deep connection with Sybil. Is the mysterious boy actually Sybil in disguise? Was Sybil cheating with multiple men?

She must have been cross-dressing out of fear of village rumors. Starting with Dr. Tristan, all the other men have social status. And there is a high possibility that Sybil was cheating on all of them. It could have developed into a messy love affair, and Sybil killed Dr. Tristan. Or she asked the men involved to kill him. If so, even a woman's strength would be enough to kill Dr. Tristan.

“The prime suspect is Sybil.”

I write that in my investigation notebook in big letters, but there is no evidence. Still, I feel more at ease. There is a possibility that other men like Chef Cedric are involved, but the main culprit is Sybil. It looks like I will win the bet with Chris. I feel confident that the latest typewriter will be mine.

“Even so...”

I was reading other fan letters, but there was a strange letter sent anonymously. It contained words about repentance and confessing to a crime, which is odd. I thought it was a letter from an anti-fan, but there was no malice in it. The handwriting was neat, and it was as clean as if it had been printed on a typewriter.

Could this letter also be related to the case? I can't figure it out even if I think about it. There is still no major evidence that Sybil is the culprit. From tomorrow, I will proceed with the investigation while focusing on Sybil.

I'm getting sleepy. The sound of an owl can be heard from outside the window. It wouldn't be bad to sleep tonight while using that as a lullaby.

When I close my eyes on the bed, for some reason, Chris's face comes to mind. If I meet Chris, I want to be the first to tell him that I've found the prime suspect. I didn't see Chris today, so I think about it even more. It's troublesome because I feel uncomfortable with a daily life without Chris.

29

“What did you say!? Sybil is the prime suspect!?”

Chris's loud voice echoes. My ears ring.

The next day, Editor-in-Chief Edmond was scheduled to come, and I was waiting for his arrival after preparing the guest room of the villa. Just past noon, when I was feeling a little sleepy, Chris visited for some reason. He said he was off work today. By the way, Jeeves and Paula were out shopping.

I called Chris to the dining room, and while drinking tea together, I talked about the progress of the case. I told him that there is a high possibility that Sybil is the prime suspect, but he was frustrated. He raised his voice and bit his lower lip.

“Doesn't this mean I'm going to lose my bet?”

He must be very frustrated. His eyes were a little red, but I don't have any room to spare either.

“But this deduction has a major flaw. There is no evidence. There is no proof that Sybil is cross-dressing. There is also no proof that Sybil was cheating on Dr. Tristan and others.”
“I see.”

Only then did Chris drink his tea and sigh with relief.

“By the way, Chris. What did you come here for?”
“No, it's about Chef Cedric. I think he's suspicious. I was keeping an eye on him, and I saw him behind the hotel with Manager Ghislain, so I came to report it.”
“I see...”

Could it be that they are working together, centering around the mysterious boy, or rather, the provisional Cyril? Although, both of them work at the same hotel. Even if they were meeting, it wouldn't be major evidence, but this is suspicious. Cyril is the main culprit, but there is a high possibility that other men are working together and killed Mr. Tristan.

"Thank you, Chris. For cooperating with the investigation."

The words coming out of my mouth are unusually honest. I don't even understand it myself. Come to think of it, Chris is a business owner. He has his own work, yet he is cooperating with my investigation. I don't know about him proposing a bet, but he doesn't really have to help with the investigation.

"Whoa, Lady Anna? Why are you so honest today?"

Chris was bewildered by me like this, and his face was even turning red, but perhaps Lady Margaret's feelings have been transmitted to me as well. Now, for some reason, I even think that meeting Chris every day and investigating is interesting.

I am bewildered by myself like this. I, too, feel like my face is about to turn red, but Editor-in-Chief Edmond arrived.

I immediately guided him to the guest room and served tea and cookies. The cookies were made by Paula. They were baked using flour I received from Manager Colette, but they are crispy, sweet, and delicious. I would like to thank Manager Colette for her flour ordering mistake.

Editor-in-Chief Edmond, who has a sweet tooth, is in a good mood just from this. Thanks to that, Editor-in-Chief Edmond is overweight, but perhaps because he comes from a nouveau riche merchant family similar to me, he doesn't hold sexist views. He is also capable at his job. On the other hand, he is strict with numbers and is merciless toward works that don't sell. Even so, he has looked after me since my debut, and my relationship with him has been good. The reason I can still work after the incident in Tarrant Village is because Editor-in-Chief Edmond followed up on various things behind the scenes.

For some reason, Chris was also present at this meeting, but Editor-in-Chief Edmond must have heard rumors about Chris as well. The two of them hit it off discussing ruthless management policies and the like, and they didn't get to the main topic for a while.

"Excuse me, Editor-in-Chief. What did you come here for?"

I involuntarily cleared my throat and made a sharp remark. Editor-in-Chief Edmond also cleared his throat and showed me various documents.

First was the usage status of this villa. Mr. Tristan's frequency of use was quite high. Recently, he had been staying at the hotel often, but a few years ago, he came almost every month.

"Mr. Tristan probably made a spare key without permission. There is a possibility that he came when it wasn't listed in these records."

Editor-in-Chief Edmond was dumbfounded while crunching on a cookie. It was as predicted, but this also solved the mystery of the locked-room trick. Editor-in-Chief Edmond says he has already reported this to the White Guard, but here he suddenly lowered the volume of his voice.

"Actually, Lady Anna. Mr. Tristan also often used the villa in the neighboring Firi Village for work."
"Eh, really?"

I had assumed it was only this villa or the hotel, but he said the editorial department owns other villas in various places and provides them to writers and critics in a slump.

"We had new writers and great masters read their new works in secret, you see. So we also lent the Firi Village villa to Mr. Tristan."

Unlike Asarion Village, Firi Village is not keen on the tourism industry and is undergoing depopulation. On the other hand, it seems to be popular with writers because they can concentrate on their work more than in Asarion Village.

"Did you tell the White Guard about this?"

To Chris's question, Editor-in-Chief Edmond shook his head.

“I wouldn’t say that. There are secret manuscripts of the great master, and other things. That White Guard was also unpleasant. He was a nasty man with his elitism on full display. That’s why I kept quiet. I just didn’t go out of my way to mention Mr. Tristan. I’m not exactly hiding it.”

It’s ethically questionable, but Editor-in-Chief Edmond says he will lend me the key to the villa in Filli Village. Since Mr. Tristan was the last one to use it, he says there is a possibility that manuscripts and notes might still be left behind.

“Thank you very much. Editor-in-Chief Edmond, with this, I might be able to find evidence or clues to the case.”

I say that, but Editor-in-Chief Edmond just shows me the key and doesn’t hand it over. He dangles the key in front of my nose and urges me, “In exchange, submit a proposal for a romance novel.”

That Editor-in-Chief Edmond’s face was villainous. He looks a lot like Chris. Both of them sat with their legs crossed, taking up space, and acting arrogant. I thought it was no wonder the two of them got along, but I’m having a carrot dangled in front of my nose. Reluctantly, I took the romance novel proposal and showed it to Editor-in-Chief Edmond.

“Ho, I see.”

Editor-in-Chief Edmond looked through it properly, but his brow was furrowed. His reaction was dull. It was the same reaction as the mystery novel proposals that had been rejected until now. This doesn’t look good. I can already predict a future where I lose more hair from stress.

“It’s all rejected. Go back and refine it more.”
“Ugh, I understand. So, the key?”

Even so, Editor-in-Chief Edmond won’t lend me the villa key. He’s grinning while watching me struggle. Chris has the same smile. It’s disgusting. Both of them looked like twins, but Chris started making jokes.

“I want to read a love story about a young, villainous executive and a poor, aspiring writer lady. The executive becomes obsessed with the poor lady, contributes letters and a typewriter, and overcomes the difference in status.”
“Wait, Chris. That topic again? Stop joking in front of the editor-in-chief. Don’t laugh and nod. I don’t want to write a novel based on you, Chris.”
“No, this is good. Write a romance novel with me as the model. I’ll teach you about love, step by step. Be prepared.”
“Why does it end up like this...”

Chris is puffing out his nostrils, puffing out his chest, and acting even more arrogant than usual. Since he’s like this even in front of Editor-in-Chief Edmond, I’m starting to get a headache.

However, Editor-in-Chief Edmond is holding his stomach and laughing out loud at this Chris. He’s laughing so hard that tears are welling up in his eyes. I feel even more uncomfortable.

“That’s a great idea. It’s a deal, Mr. Chris!”
“Wait, Editor-in-Chief, what are you saying? Don’t tell me, this romance novel is accepted? You want me to write this!?”
“Isn’t it fine, Ms. Anna? Let Mr. Chris teach you step by step. Then write a realistic romance novel. With this setting, it’s similar to popular novels in the Royal Capital, and there’s a possibility it will sell.”
“Th-that’s...”

Only a pathetic voice comes out. Why did it turn out like this? However, I successfully obtained the key to the villa, and it was decided that I would go investigate. For some reason, Chris is also coming along, and it seems I really can’t escape.

“However, Mr. Chris is interesting. He’s a more interesting man than Ms. Anna. Why don’t you just become a romance novelist, Mr. Chris?”
“Is that so? Editor-in-Chief, if Ms. Anna can’t write the romance novel, can I write it instead?”
“That’s totally fine. It might be good to sell it as a co-authored work. It might sell because of the buzz.”
“Co-authored. That sounds good!”

Chris and Editor-in-Chief Edmond are getting excited on their own, and I can’t keep up.

“What is this, really...”

Although I was able to get the key from Editor-in-Chief Edmond, it has been decided that I will write the romance novel that Chris proposed. I was immediately threatened by Editor-in-Chief Edmond to “submit a plot too.” I have nothing but a premonition that I will lose more hair.

30

The carriage rattles, clatter, clatter.

I was on my way from Asarion Village to Phili Village, but the road didn't seem to be in very good condition. Every now and then, we would stumble over stones and the carriage would stop, but it was still better than walking.

After that, we decided to head straight to the villa in Phili Village. Editor-in-Chief Edmond went off to observe wild birds in Asarion Village and said he would be staying at a hotel for a while, but we were on an investigation. I was heading to Phili Village with Chris, disguised as well.

“Do we really need to pretend to be a married couple for this undercover investigation again?”

The complaint slipped out before I could stop it. Chris had suggested that since we didn't know who might be watching in Phili Village, we should disguise ourselves, and for some reason, we ended up pretending to be a married couple. Just like when we infiltrated the hotel, I wore the outfit of a frumpy housewife, but for some reason, Chris also disguised himself as a similar country-style husband. He was wearing a tacky sweater, dirty jeans, and glasses.

He wasn't wearing a wig, but even just this made him look like a different person. He was sitting with his legs crossed as arrogantly as ever, but from a distance, he didn't look like Chris at all. It seems that clothes alone can change a person's impression. There was a high possibility that the mysterious boy was actually a woman, and that it was Sybil. That was fine, but I couldn't understand why I was doing an undercover investigation with Chris under the guise of being a married couple. I felt like sighing. As always, Chris had a ring on the ring finger of his left hand. I was also wearing a ring for my disguise, but I couldn't understand why we were doing the same thing as in Tarrant Village.

“Isn't it fine, Miss Anna? Why don't we enjoy playing house as a married couple to the fullest?”

Contrary to me sighing, Chris was in a great mood. He was laughing while saying 'hmm, hmm' and even reading a book on novel writing. It was a gift from Editor-in-Chief Edmond. Was he trying to turn Chris into a romance novelist? Thinking that it wasn't a joke made my head ache. The case was progressing, but my mouth twitched.

I didn't have any grudge against romance novels. I like reading them, but the thought of writing one myself makes my head hurt. I can write romantic descriptions as a side dish to a mystery novel, but I have never written a full-length romance novel. I wonder if this is a theme I can write about, given that my romance aptitude is zero and I haven't even had my first love.

“Then you should just use me as a model. I'll teach you about love step by step.”

Chris sensed my anxiety. He was grinning, showing his teeth, and it seemed he couldn't help but be happy. His mouth had been relaxed the whole time.

“I mean, I don't really know much about you, Chris. So it's hard to use you as a model.”
“That's true, isn't it?”

Chris put on a serious face for a moment and started talking about his upbringing.

He came from a small, rural place called Drakme Village. He was always poor in the countryside. His father was a philanderer, which caused his mother to become hysterical, so Chris ended up doing the housework instead. He had no siblings. His dream was to become rich to get back at the people in the countryside someday. After managing to get into school with a scholarship, he studied business administration, built connections, and through effort after effort, he achieved his current status.

“That's how I was born. Any other questions?”
“You've had a surprisingly hard life. I've been a nouveau riche lady since I was born, so I've never had any misfortune.”
“Well, I've cut ties with the old man anyway. Don't worry, Miss Anna. There's no troublesome father-in-law, just my mother.”
“Could you stop talking as if we're getting married?”

Even as I said that, I understood Chris's background, and his character started to come into view. His constant arrogance might have been a reflection of his complex about his birth, and his relationship with his mother seemed good. He wasn't a villain at heart.

Thus, based on his own testimony, I understood Chris's background, but it was a mystery why he was so obsessed with me. What exactly was it about me that attracted him? It was truly a mystery.

I had attended parties in aristocratic circles at my parents' command, but I wasn't popular at all. I was snickered at behind my back as the 'Ice Nouveau Riche Lady.' In the first place, I didn't like the stuck-up noblemen either, so I had never cared about it until now, but asking him about it directly would be tactless. Should I try to deduce it? But I had no clues at all.

“Miss Anna. If you marry me, I'll buy you the latest typewriter, and I could even give you a whole company. You can eat gourmet food every day, and I'll buy you any clothes or accessories you want. Of course, you can write mystery novels. You can do whatever you want for work. Of course, you can also be an elegant housewife with three meals a day and a nap.”

Chris, in a good mood, switched to courtship mode. He talked about the benefits of marriage like a presentation. As expected of a ruthless businessman. He was a pro at selling things like this. My heart was certainly wavering.

“You can use me as a model for your romance novel. Haha, I'll definitely make you happy. In a way, I am the Blue Bird for you, Miss Anna.”

What a cheesy line. He even gave a smug laugh, but I couldn't just nod along.

"I don't need a bluebird to be happy. Even if there are only brown wild birds around me, that's fine. I don't need anyone to make me happy; I can make myself smile."

A rather unlovable thing to say, even by my own standards. I realized why I'm called an icy nouveau-riche lady, but for some reason, Chris seemed even more pleased.

"Hahaha, Lady Anna, you're an interesting woman. Good, that interesting side of you is what makes you great. You're nothing like those pampered noble ladies."
"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

Chris nodded deeply. His eyes were unexpectedly serious. I felt like I was being drawn into his bluish eyes.

It seems Chris likes me because I'm an "interesting woman," though it's possible he just has poor taste in women, but I decided not to say that out loud.

Before I knew it, the carriage had entered Phili Village. Unlike Asarion Village, there were no accommodations like hotels, just fields and houses. It was certainly depopulated, but with red-light district shops lining the streets, the view from the carriage was far from beautiful. Remembering Paula, my mouth twitched in a different way than before.

"What an unpleasant sight."
"Yeah... things like this should be wiped out entirely."

Rarely, Chris's voice was gentle. Chris wasn't born into privilege either. He possesses a kindness that prevents him from ignoring scenes like this.

At his core, Chris is not a bad person. He looks arrogant, but he's different from noble men. Noble men are naturally chauvinistic, but Chris is not.

It's troublesome because I can't simply dislike Chris. This courtship is hard to turn down. For a fleeting moment, I could even foresee a future living with him, and I hurriedly cleared my throat.

Next time, here.